


Brave, Bold, and Reckless

by servantofclio



Series: Sewers to Stars [3]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-05-26 23:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 9,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6260956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servantofclio/pseuds/servantofclio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Casey and Raph love story</p>
<p>This fic does not really have a plot; it's mostly a place for me to put various Raph/Casey short-fics I've written. </p>
<p>(Fits into the Sewers to Stars crossover chronology, but the crossover elements are pretty light.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Your hand-to-hand is weak and always has been,” Raph declares.

Casey’s not just gonna stand there and take it. “I’ve always got my stick, man.” It’s never hard to find a weapon, as far as he’s concerned.

“You _could_ be disarmed sometime,” Raph says, pushing up on his feet to get into Casey’s face.

Casey doesn’t bat an eye. When Raph is pissy for no reason, you just have to go with it. “Fine, whatever, you wanna do this? Come at me.”

He dodges the resulting punch, laughing. Even without skates on, Casey Jones is more than fast enough to dodge. “That the best you can do?”

Raph’s eyes narrow, and the next strike is faster. Also harder. That’s fine, not a problem.

The more they keep at it, though—punch after kick after dodge—the more Casey wants to get a rise out of the turtle. Raph is fast, too, more than anyone with that much muscle has any right to be, and Casey is starting to resent Raph’s lower center of gravity and wish he could knock him off-balance _just one fuckin’ time_.

So with Raph’s next strike, Casey dodges again—blocking is a stupid plan with Raph anyway—whirls out of the way, and as Raph’s momentum carries him past, Casey spins around and slaps him on the ass. Or where his ass _should_ be if he had one, right below the lower edge of his shell. Raph actually stumbles and wheels around looking shocked. “What the hell?”

“Ha!” Casey crows. “Can’t take it?” He’s too busy laughing to dodge when Raph rushes him this time, and goes down onto the dojo floor with a thud.

After that it’s not so much training and more just random tussling; Raph gets a handful of Casey’s hair and Casey calls him out on a girly move, Casey manages to jab a knee into Raph’s side and roll him over on his shell, Raph snarls and flips them both over again, and they actually roll a couple of times, squirming and flailing, but Casey ends up on his back with Raph pinning him to the floor and oh shit, when exactly did he pop a boner during all that?

“Admit it,” Raph growls, and that’s not helping with the hard-on _at all_ , “you lose.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get off, dude, you weigh a ton.” Casey squirms ineffectually. There’s still half a chance Raph hasn’t noticed.

But he pushes down harder and repeats, “Admit it,” and now his thigh is pressing in a way that feels way too good and there’s no _way_ he hasn’t noticed; sure enough, his face freezes for a moment, and Casey waits for the explosion.

It doesn’t come, though; Raph’s face goes through a whole series of shifts and ends up with something Casey doesn’t recognize, because it’s not one of the twenty different kinds of scowl. He just stares, with that unreadable look in his green eyes, and then says, “Yeah. Okay,” and backs off, pulling himself to his feet.

Casey lets out a whoosh of breath, torn between relief and more than a little missing that pressure. He starts to push himself up on his elbows, but, to his surprise, Raph extends a hand. “Thanks,” Casey says, taking it.

Raph pulls him to his feet without any visible effort. “Good session,” he says, looking off at the corner of the dojo instead of at Casey.

“Yeah. Uh… yeah,” Casey replies.

“So I gotta… go see what my idiot brother’s up to.”

“Right,” Casey says, not bothering to ask which brother he means. “I’ve got stuff to do, too. Yeah.”

“See you around,” Raph says, and doesn’t actually run out of the dojo, but only barely.

Well, shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of "how they got together." I forgot to mention that I'm envisioning the boys as being around 18-19 at this point.

Leo says, “Are you going out with Casey tonight?” and Raph’s answer bursts out on reflex.

“What? No!”

Leo blinks. “I was just asking.”

“Well I’m not,” Raph snaps, knowing perfectly well that he _would_ usually be out with Casey on a night like this, when Donnie’s holed up in the lab and Mikey’s buried in this month’s haul of comics.

“Oooo-kay.” Leo’s giving him one of those looks, and Raph sets his teeth, because Leo can keep his damned speculation to himself. “Do you mind if I watch something?”

“Watch whatever dumb thing you want,” Raph says, and Leo picks up the remote with an eye-roll and a long-suffering sigh.

Not like he needs the remote, anyway, considering he likes to sit a foot away from the screen. Whatever. When his eyes go bad, Raph will remind him of all those hours he spent glued to _Space Heroes_ and ask him if it was worth it.

Raph picks up one of the comics Mikey’s done with and opens it up, but he’s not really seeing the pages. He’s still thinking about what happened yesterday in the dojo. 

He’s not dumb. Casey was turned on that day. Raph could tell. Not just from the look in his eyes, hell, he could _feel_ it. Casey was hot _for him_.

Which is fine, like, if someone’s going to go for mutant turtle, Raph is definitely the best specimen of the lot, right? Right.

He glares at the comic and the back of Leo’s head and flips the page.

Casey’s his friend, though, so if he’s hot for Raph, what does that mean? Is it going to make things weird? Aren’t things kinda weird already?

Raph grits his teeth and flips another page without looking at it. There is enough weird shit in their lives without anything else getting strange. The team’s supposed to be solid. They have to rely on each other.

Okay, so Raph’s just not going to let it be weird, then. That’s settled.

He could just ignore it like nothing happened. That makes sense. Yeah. No one needs to say anything if nothing’s going to happen next.

Raph frowns harder at the page. The blare of Leo’s show seems especially loud as that idea settles like a stone dropped into deep water. It doesn’t satisfy, somehow. It sits inside him like lead, or one of Mikey’s grosser concoctions, instead of vanishing like it’s supposed to.

What does he _want_ to happen next?

He remembers the look on Casey’s face, when they weren’t sparring any more. There’d been something different in his eyes, and Raph had frozen for a moment, the air between them full of heat and the smell of sweat and skin.

Raph sneers at himself and flips another page before tossing the comic to the side. This is stupid. If he wants to know what happens next, there’s only one person to go to.

He makes the call. “Yo, Casey?” Leo turns around to scowl at him for making noise while the show’s on. Raph scowls back.

“Hey, Raph.” Casey sounds a little surprised, maybe, but it’s hard to tell. “Uh, what’s up?”

“It’s boring down here. You wanna meet up tonight?” Leo’s waving his hands, attempting to shoo Raph away. He ignores him.

After a moment, Casey says, “Sure. Usual place, twenty minutes?”

It won’t take Raph that long to get there. That gives him five minutes to tell Leo what he thinks about his dumb program before strolling out. Sounds perfect. “Sure.”

“Thought you weren’t going out with him tonight,” Leo says, shooting Raph another glare.

Raph shrugs, putting on a mask of confidence. “Changed my mind,” he says, carelessly.

#

 _The usual place_ is a code word for a rotating set of locations, not just one place, because they’re not dumbasses. Raph gets there nice and quiet and unseen by anyone with plenty of time to spare. He hears Casey coming, though, clattering his way up the fire escape, even after all this time.

“We’re supposed to be quiet, numbskull,” he says once Casey’s vaulted himself onto the rooftop.

“Yeah, for the eleven hundredth time, Raph, only one of us is a ninja.”

“You could still be quieter.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The familiar exchange settles him, but then Casey give him a wary look, like he’s waiting for Raph to say something, and that raises his hackles again. “What?” he snaps.

“Nothing,” says Casey. “I heard the Purple Dragons have been prowling around a few blocks over.”

“Let’s check it out, then.”

He might not be good at the _silent_ part, but Casey can keep up with Raph as they launch themselves from rooftop to rooftop. It’s not about the acrobatics, like with his brothers, it’s just about how far they can jump, speed and strength. Simple. Sometimes they jump one after the other, sometimes in tandem; they don’t even need to talk, really, to keep pace with each other. It feels good, but Raph’s sense of something unsettled keeps growing until, in the middle of a rooftop, he wheels around and grabs. Casey is right where he expected him to be; Raph shoves him back two steps and growls, “What the hell, Jones? Yesterday, in the dojo, you—”

“Whoa.” Casey backs up another step, almost to the wall behind him, raising his hands in his big hockey mitts. “Whoa, man, I’m sorry, I thought we were cool—”

Raph takes another step forward, so now Casey’s backed up against the wall, his hands still up. “ _Cool_?” Raph shouts. “We’re _cool_. Aren’t we?”

Casey blinks, looking startled. “Sure, dude. We’re always cool.”

“Right,” Raph says, even though he’s never felt less cool. It feels like heat’s gathering under his shell and prickling up the back of his neck. “So fuck you, Case.”

Casey blinks again and then smirks at him. “Thought that’s what you were opting out— _ngh_.”

Raph has shoved his face into Casey’s. Their mouths connect with a _click_ , teeth to teeth, lips crushed between, hot and forceful. It kinda hurts. Raph backs off with a moment’s hot frustration. He should’ve known it wouldn’t work right.

Casey just gives him a look, though. “Dude. That was, like, the worst kiss in the history of kisses.”

“Yeah?” Raph fires back. “You think you could do better?”

The infuriating smirk is back. “Yeah, Casey Jones knows his way around a lip-lock.”

“Oh yeah?” Raph crosses his arms, falling back a step.

“Yeah, I got chicks and dudes lined up—”

“Well maybe you could show me if you weren’t so busy talking shit,” Raph snaps, rocking on his feet.

“Talking shit, huh? Stop bouncing around a minute.”

Raph is about to snarl that he is not either bouncing around, Casey must have him confused with Mikey, but Casey slouches down and plants one on him before he can get the words out.

His mouth is still hot, but softer, kinda, they don’t rebound off each other this time, it’s sort of slick and lingering, and when Casey pulls back he’s smirking again and there’s a glint in his eye. “See?”

“Not bad,” Raph says after a moment. His heart’s pounding.

Casey cocks his head. “Not _bad?_ After the other one? Dude, there’s not even a comparison—”

“You gonna shut up?” Raph growls.

“You gonna make me?” Casey replies.

He is, actually. That’ll be the third kiss.

It feels good.


	3. we're cool

Once a year Casey goes up to Boston with some of his hockey buddies to hang out, drink beer, and bellow at the Bruins on their own turf. He always comes back in a good mood, sometimes with fresh bruises, usually with some stories about getting arrested or getting drunk or getting laid. 

It’s not a big deal. It’s certainly not a big deal that it’s the first weekend since Raph shoved Casey down in the dojo and then they made out in the middle of a rooftop for half an hour, and now Casey’s going to be away. 

“I’ll be back Sunday night,” Casey tells them at the end of patrol on Thursday. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

Raph, along with his brothers, greets that statement with the derision it deserves. Donnie, as usual, has to point out that “anything you wouldn’t do covers a great deal of both legal and illegal activity, Jones.” 

Casey smirks and winks and points at him, and saunters off with a baseball bat slung over his shoulder, just like usual. 

He doesn’t say anything in particular to Raph. 

There’s no reason he should. Especially not in front of the others. They’re just – 

Okay, Raph doesn’t actually know what they are. They’re friends. Friends who fight together. And kiss together. That was… nice. So. You know. They’re cool. Everything’s cool. 

He makes a point of not thinking about Casey finishing work on Friday and getting on the train with his human pals, all whooping at each other and talking smack, going out and grabbing some beers like normal humans. He also would really rather not remember how last year, Casey came back bragging about some girl he’d hooked up with. 

Casey texts Raph on Friday night, though: _check it out, it’s snowing_ and a picture of Casey winding up with a snowball, making a weird face at the camera. 

Raph texts back: _can’t see the snow with your ugly face in the way_

Casey texts back an obscene gesture. Raph smirks to himself and closes the phone. 

Casey keeps doing it, though, random little messages like _fucking ice I nearly fell over  
_

Raph sends back _thought you were supposed to be good on ice_

and so it goes. Another time he can’t tell what Casey is trying to send him a picture of because the camera lens is half covered in snow. 

It’s weirdly relaxing. Plus, at least he knows Casey’s not getting into too much trouble – two years ago, the lot of them nearly got themselves arrested picking a fight with some Boston guys in a bar. 

Other than that, the weekend goes like weekends usually do. There’s sparring and dumb movies and Mikey makes a giant mound of pancakes on Sunday morning. On Sunday afternoon, Raph heads out for a run, and swings past Casey’s apartment just to make sure nobody broke in. Not like Casey has much worth stealing, but still. 

That’s what Raph tells himself, anyway. 

But there’s a light on at Casey’s place, so he veers closer, ready to launch himself through a window and give some burglar a beatdown. 

Inside, though, Raph can see Casey moving around, so he slows down. Hesitates for a moment, then jumps over to Casey’s building, slides down the fire escape, and opens the window. 

Casey yelps. “Gah! How many times have I told you, man.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” Raph says, swinging in and shutting the window. “Thought you weren’t going to be back yet.” 

Casey shrugs. “I took an earlier train. Hey, it’s good you’re here, cause I got you something.” 

“What?” Raph asks, startled. He catches the thing Casey throws at him anyway, on reflex. 

“Got you something,” Casey repeats, grinning. 

The thing in Raph’s hands is roundish and wrapped in plain brown paper. When he yanks the paper off, he finds a snowglobe featuring what he assumes is the Boston skyline. 

“Seriously?” Raph gives it a shake and lets the pathetic little white things drift around. 

Casey cackles, rocking on his feet. “I customized it for ya.” 

“Customized…?” Raph sees then that the globe has “I <3 Boston” printed around the base, only Casey’s taken a black marker and scribbled over the heart. He snorts. “Real classy, Case.” 

Casey nearly doubles over, laughing. “You like it?” 

“This is a cheap-ass present,” Raph says. “What am I supposed to do with a damn snowglobe?” 

“Hey, you don’t have to keep it.” Casey swipes it out of Raph’s hands. “You don’t want it, no problem.” 

“No take-backs,” Raph says, reaching for it. Sure, it’s a shitty stupid snowglobe, but it was still a present. 

Casey holds it up out of reach, though, sticking his long arm up over his head and springing back when Raph lunges up for it. He’s laughing wildly and just laughs harder when Raph growls at him. Raph’s eyes narrow as Casey dances further away, still waving the snowglobe over his head. Sure, it’s a shitty, cheap, junky tourist souvenir, but Casey isn’t getting away with this. Casey isn’t getting away at all, because Raph is not letting his punk vigilante friend get the better of him. 

Raph leaps, and slams Casey into the couch. “Whoa,” Casey says, and kisses Raph. He kisses like he does almost everything, pushy and impatient. The snowglobe falls to the couch cushions with a thud, but suddenly Raph is a lot less interested in it and a lot more interested in Casey’s mouth. 

He still doesn’t know what they are, exactly, but it doesn’t matter. They’re cool. Everything’s genuinely gonna be fine.


	4. Date Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt by yarnandtea / teadrinkingdragon

The whole thing is Mikey’s fault, really, because it was his stupid idea to begin with. Though maybe that makes Raph just as stupid for actually listening to him.

What happens is this: Raph is minding his own business and suddenly Mikey pops up at his elbow and says, “So are you going to take Casey on a date?”

Raph jumps half out of his shell and takes a frantic look around, but no one else is in sight. Or earshot, hopefully. Sensei is in his own room, meditating, and it sounds like Donnie’s welding something, and Leo’s off doing whatever Leo does these days. He looks back at Mikey, who’s smiling at him, and says, “What? Why would I do that?”

“Well, you guys are doing stuff, right?” 

Now Raph wishes he could disappear inside his shell, because he does not want to talk about the _stuff_ he’s doing with Casey with _Mikey_ , who’s smiling at him with wide blue eyes. Mikey’s the last brother—well, maybe not the _last_ , because he doesn’t want to talk about this with Leo, either—but on the whole, if he had to talk about the fact that he and Casey are screwing each other, he’d rather talk to Donnie, who would at least do him the courtesy of _not looking at him_ while they talked about it. Why is it that Mikey is the only one of his brothers who knows, anyway?

Oh, right. Because he doesn’t _knock_ , that’s why.

“Yeah,” he gets out. “We do stuff.”

“Cool,” says Mikey brightly. “So that means you’re, like, boyfriends.”

“I guess,” Raph replies, wary.

“So you should have a date! Like in a movie! That’s how humans do things, right?”

Raph groans and lets his head flop back against the chair, gracelessly. “Come on, Mikey. You know we can’t do that.” They could—maybe they could sneak into a movie theater or something. No. Too many people. Same for going to a game. Restaurants are right out. What the hell else do humans do on dates? That stuff happens in the kind of movies Raph mostly doesn’t watch.

“You could make him dinner!”

“I don’t _cook_ , Mikey!”

“Dude,” says Mikey. “You can follow a recipe, can’t you?”

Raph growls and swats at him, ready to be done with this stupid conversation.

But the thought won’t leave him, it wormed its way in and now it rattles around inside his skull. Casey won’t care about that stuff, it doesn’t matter how humans are supposed to do things. Right. Except back when Casey and April were dating, they went on dates, but maybe that was because April wanted to.

Or maybe it was because Casey did.

Once he makes his mind up, it’s easy. Easy to slip into Casey’s apartment through the window, even with a full bag. Only takes him a few minutes of cursing to figure out how to light the burners on the stove, and he doesn’t think he burns the meat much, although he singes his fingers, but that’s no big deal.

He’s just slid the pan into the oven when he hears the rattle of keys at the door, and a moment later Casey walks in, mumbling, “Something smells… whoa. Raph, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Uh…” Fuck. He somehow had never figured out how he was going to explain this, so he has to stand there frozen with a lasagna in the oven, while Casey stares at him, and then looks at the table with its candles in chipped candlesticks.

“Did you _cook_?” Casey demands.

“Uh… yeah. It’s Friday night, it’s like… a date.”

“A _date_?”

This was a stupid, stupid idea, and it’s totally Mikey’s fault.

Casey’s not done, though. “Because usually on Fridays we go out and beat shit up, or maybe we watch a movie if the weather’s bad, and you’re, like… I mean, did you bring flowers, too? What the hell?”

“Forget it,” Raph snarls and makes for the window.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Casey sprints across the room to intercept him, managing to grab onto Raph’s arm when he’s only half out the window. “Dude, I’m sorry.”

Raph stays where he is, tense. “Don’t do me any favors, you don’t have to eat it. I brought some shitty movies, too, so whatever.”

“Dude,” says Casey, and tugs, but Raph’s not budging. “No, you’re right, it sounds nice. We could use a change from takeout and frozen crap, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s… yeah.” It wasn’t what he was thinking, not really, but Raph finally allows Casey to pull him back into the apartment.

“But you know you didn’t have to, right? We’re cool regardless.” Casey gives him a smile.

“”Course we are,” Raph says, but hearing the words settles something in him, anyway.

Casey grins and kisses him, hot and wet and sloppy, and then pulls back and cocks his head. “How long does that stuff need to bake, anyway?”

“Uh… like an hour,” Raph says. “Maybe fifty minutes, now.”

Casey waggles his eyebrows. “That sounds like plenty of time for a little—”

“Shut up,” Raph growls.

Casey smirks. “Make me.”

There’s only one response to that.


	5. How everyone found out: April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This begins a several-part series about how everyone else in the family found out Raph and Casey were A Thing. April's up first.

_Two weeks after_

Casey has an infallible ability to tell when April’s going out for drinks with friends from college. It’s like a sixth sense, or something. He always shows up to tag along, even when it’s supposed to be girls’ night.

April’s college friends don’t quite know what to make of Casey. None of them are snotty enough to make an issue of the fact that he’s going to a different school and in a mechanical program, or they wouldn’t be her friends, but most of them aren’t from the city, and they’re a little baffled by the smirk and the attitude and the swagger, and… well, mostly by the Casey-ness. He’s won most of them over—again, by sheer Casey-ness. One time he got half of the people in April’s class to come to a hockey game with him, even though they had a midterm the next day. No one even seems to mind when he invites himself along to the bars—though it probably helps that he knows the best bars in the neighborhood. Once they’re there, he flirts outrageously with everyone, telling tales of his hockey exploits, and sometimes even stories that get a little closer to the truth of their vigilante adventures than April’s entirely comfortable with. She’s yelled at him more than once about it, but Casey being Casey, he keeps right on.

He never breathes a word about the turtles, of course. He’d never let that slip.

Tonight he’s mostly flirting with a blonde girl who’s a friend of a friend. April doesn’t know her at all, really, except that her name is Sally and she’s sleek and perfumed and perfectly coiffed. April’s mostly talking to Deepa and Brian, but since Casey’s next to her, she can’t help overhearing his conversation. For once he’s not flirting quite so hard, even though Sally’s obviously interested, leaning forward and playing with her hair.

“Oh, I could,” Casey says in response to something April didn’t hear, “but I don’t think my boyfriend would like it.” He flashes a lopsided smirk as he leans back and drinks his beer. 

“Oh, you have a boyfriend?” Sally’s leaning even further forward. “I didn’t realize. You sure he wouldn’t be up for a third?”

She’s obviously trying for sultry. Casey laughs, though, while April’s ears perk up, and she tries to figure out if he’s bluffing or if he’s actually started seeing someone. If he has, it’s the first April’s heard of it. “Yeah, I don’t know if you’re really his type.”

“Aw.” Sally pouts, and April hates her immediately. “Does he only like guys or something?”

Casey shrugs. “Y’know, we haven’t really talked about it. But he’s more of a rough and tumble kind of guy, and you look like a candles-and-flowers kind of girl.”

Sally giggles, flipping her long, sleek hair back over her shoulder, and says, “Come on, you don’t really know anything about me.”

April’s face is starting to hurt from clenching her jaw. Sally’s still talking. “We could go home and surprise him, you know, that could be fun—”

Casey’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and he laughs out loud. “Yeah, that wouldn’t go over so well. He’s a little shy, plus he’s got kind of a temper.” He chuckles again. “Especially for a short guy. Not a good idea to spring stuff on him.”

April almost chokes on her drink at the description. The currents of Casey’s feelings brush against hers, warm and affectionate. She narrows her eyes at him in suspicion, but he’s not looking at her. Sally is still making eyes at him and her voice has taken on a wheedling tone, and April’s sick of it. She leans her elbow on the table, interposing herself. “He already said no,” she snaps.

Sally’s eyes go wide before she scowls at April and sits back in her chair, ruffled. April doesn’t care. Quick, pointed strikes: that’s her job. She smirks and settles back in her seat herself.

She grabs Casey’s elbow as they’re leaving and splits him off from the group, nice and smooth, letting the others go on ahead. “What was all that about?” she whispers.

He gives her one of those cocky looks, one eyebrow up and a lopsided smirk. “What was all what about?”

“You’re, what, pretending Raph is your boyfriend when you’re giving some girl excuses? Don’t think I’m not on to you.”

Casey’s smirk blossoms into a full-fledged grin. He casts one swift glance around before leaning close to her ear and saying, “Who said I was pretending?”

April sputters, all sorts of unaccustomed, and not entirely welcome, images springing into her imagination. His conviction, and something more, slams into her mind like a punch, with a true, joyous enthusiasm. April shies away from looking at his emotions any more closely. She’s a little—God, she’s a little envious. Not of whatever he has with Raph, but just that he has _something_ , when she hasn’t had a boyfriend last longer than two months the whole time she’s been in college.

Casey gives her a smug grin, though, and April finds it impossible not to smile back. It’s hard to imagine those two making it work, but if they can, more power to them.


	6. How everyone found out: Mikey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mikey doesn't knock.

_Three weeks after_

 Mikey flings open the door to Raph’s room one day, calling, “Hey, Raph, do you know where my skateboard is?”

The lights are off, except for a little one on the nightstand. That’s weird. Raph’s nowhere to be seen, which is weirder, and there’s a frantic rustling sound that quickly stops.

“Don’t you _knock_?” The furious voice comes from under the worn blankets.

Under? Was he taking a nap or something? Mikey blinks and slowly knocks against the doorframe. “Sorry, bro, I forgot,” he says, putting on his best smile.

“You _forgot_?” Raph’s head pokes out from under the blankets now. He’s glaring so hard he’s practically emitting death rays from his eyes (which would be cool, if they could really do that), but it looks kinda silly right now because his mask is on crooked.

“Yeah, dude, sorry. Oh, hey, Casey,” Mikey says, noticing the second, taller and thinner lump in the bed. “What’s up, dudes?”

Raph makes a noise somewhere between a growl and a sputter. Cool. Mikey hasn’t heard that one before. Casey’s head pops out of the blankets, too. His hair’s a mess and he offers Mikey a sheepish grin. “Hey, Mikey, I’m good. You?”

“I’m cool.” As the blankets shift, he can see that Casey’s not wearing a shirt. Mikey frowns. “Hey, are you guys kissing or something?”

Raph lunges out of the covers that time, snarling, “If you say anything to anyone I’ll—” but Casey grabs his shoulder before he can get very far, saying “whoa whoa whoa, man—”

“Raph, relax, it’s cool,” Mikey says, holding up his hands. “I don’t _care_ if you guys were kissing.”

Raph freezes with a look of surprise on his face. “You don’t,” he says slowly, and then his expression tightens back into something resolved. “You’d _better_ not.”

“What’s the matter?” Casey says. “April already knows.”

Raph rounds on him. “She _what_? _She’d_ better not say anything, or I’m gonna slap her so hard she goes blonde.”

Casey says, “Whoa, dude, what’s the deal?” He frowns. “Did you not tell anyone?”

“I, uh…” Now Raph looks sheepish, the scowl melting away while his eyes flick from side to side, and his mask is still crooked, so Mikey has to fight not to laugh. “Well…”

Casey’s still frowning, and Raph is starting to look like he wants to escape, so Mikey thinks he’d better say something. “Hey, dudes, don’t worry about it! This is awesome!”

They both turn their heads to stare at him. “Awesome?” Raph says, skeptically.

“Yeah, ‘cause Casey’s fun, and you’re both having fun, right?”

They both stare for another moment, until Casey laughs and slings an arm around Raph’s neck. “Right. Ain’t we having fun, Raph?”

The corner of Raph’s mouth might be twitching. He sighs and says, “Mikey, get out of here.”

“Sure thing, bro. But I was looking for my skateboard.”

Raph rolls his eyes and heaves a sigh. “Well, I don’t have it. Why the hell would I have it? Go look somewhere else.”

Mikey closes the door behind him. He doesn’t even open it back up for a while, just for fun. His bros might think he never plans, but they are totally wrong. Dr. Prankenstein knows how to pick his moment.

He waits until everyone is off doing something else, except him and Raph. They’re sitting watching a vid together, and then Mikey strikes: “Hey Raph.”

Raph answers absent-mindedly, staring at the screen. “Yeah?”

“How’s your boooyfriend?”

Mikey manages to make three smacking noises with his mouth before Raph is after him, and Mikey obligingly screams and runs away.


	7. How everyone found out: Shepard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the crossover chapter of this series, Shepard being the protagonist of Mass Effect. Here she's a teenage girl who hangs out with the turtles.

_Six weeks after_

“C’mon, Casey, let me in!” Shepard knocks again on the apartment door. She’d ducked into the lobby below when somebody else got buzzed in, and now she scowls at the silent door. “I know you’re in there, I heard you thumping around when I got here.”

More silence. Or maybe the creak of a floorboard, she can’t be sure.

“If you don’t answer, I’m just going to camp out here in the hallway!”

After a moment, the door opens a crack and Casey peers out, hair mussed and wearing a ripped, grease-stained, baggy t-shirt. “Hey, Shepard, what do you need?” 

“I need somewhere to hang for a couple hours.” Shepard pushes her own wet hair out of her eyes and tries to look pathetic. “It’s pouring, and I can’t go, you know, below because that asshole Finch is still following me around. Don’t wanna lead him anywhere he shouldn’t be.”

“Hit him,” Casey suggests.

“I did. He thinks I’m up to something, even though I told him I was just trying to go straight.” Once upon a time, she’d hung out with the Reds, sure, but now they were just bugging her. They weren’t going to find out who her real friends were. She’d make sure of that.

Casey frowns at her. “Where’s you leave him?”

“I ditched him a block away, and I’ll go out the window when it stops raining. Come on, Casey, I’m soaked. What’s the big deal, anyway?”

Casey gives her a grin that’s one part sheepish and two parts ingratiating. “Actually, this isn’t a great time—”

“No, it’s fine,” calls a voice behind him. Casey’s shoulders slump, but he moves back enough that Shepard finally gets the chance to push past him.

“Hey, Raph,” she says, trying to wring some of the water out of her hair.

Raph frowns at her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just wet, Finch doesn’t do anything but talk. I’ll handle it,” she adds, seeing the frown settle in. “Hey, Casey, do you have cocoa or anything?”

“What am I, a coffee shop?” Casey says, but waves her into the tiny kitchen. “I think there’s something in a drawer, go look around and help yourself.”

“Fine,” Shepard says, heading that direction. She makes a face; the kitchen is a disaster of unwashed dishes and empty takeout containers. She turns around to tell Casey what she thinks of it, and catches the two guys staring at each other. Casey’s turned away from her, so she can’t make out his face, but Raph has an odd sort of look that Shepard doesn’t think she’s seen before. That’s also when she noticed that Raph has his mask and wraps on, but not his belt and other gear. She takes that in, looks again at Casey’s disheveled state, and feels herself turn first hot and then cold with embarrassment.

“Uh,” she says, coming out of the kitchen. “Look, obviously I was interrupting something, I’ll just… go…”

The guys stare at each other for one more long moment before Casey shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “Nah. You’re right, it’s pouring out.”

“Okay…” she says uncertainly. “I’ve got headphones if you want to, um, get back to whatever…” It’s going to be horrifically awkward, but she can hole up with music and some hot chocolate for a little while and pretend she doesn’t know what’s going on, right? Maybe the rain won’t last long.

They both laugh then, and Casey reaches out and ruffles her wet hair. “I think that ship has sailed, Miss Moodkiller.”

Shepard makes a face, cheeks still hot, and tries to bat his hand away. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Weak, Shepard,” Raph says, crossing his arms. “You can do better than that.”

“Tell you what, let’s make enough hot chocolate for all of us,” says Casey.

This sounds a lot more normal. Shepard’s shoulders relax. She takes one more wary glance at her friends, but neither of them looks like he’s holding a grudge.

But when they settle down with their hot chocolate to put a movie on, Shepard makes sure to sit in the chair instead of on the couch, and smirks to herself when Casey and Raph sit together.


	8. How everyone found out: Donnie

_Two months after_

For Donnie, it’s not so much one revelation as a series of insights that builds up over time.

He’s good at spotting patterns, after all.

So he notices that sometimes Raph comes home late at night looking ten times more relaxed than usual, and once or twice Donnie is pretty sure he hears Raph _humming_. There was also the time that April thought she’d left some supplies at Casey’s place, and when Donnie suggested she call him to check, a brief look of alarm crossed her face before she said, “I think Raph went over there, so maybe I’ll call him later.” He also notices the pattern that Raph seems to be in a better mood, overall, these days: less yelling, less apt to be set off by the littlest things. Donnie doesn’t think much of it. He just assumes that Raph has mellowed out a little (finally) as they’re getting older. None of the details Donnie notices are significant enough in and of itself to lead him to the right conclusion.

At least, not until the night that Casey shows up half carrying Raph, who’s limping badly, both of them bruised and bloodied. “Purple Dragons,” Casey explains, in short gasps. “More of ‘em than we expected.”

“How hurt are you?” Donnie demands before Leo can launch into what looks to be an epic lecture.

“It’s not that bad—” Raph protests.

“Don’t even start, you can hardly walk and you’re the one doing most of the bleeding,” Casey snaps back.

A quick survey of the two of them tells Donnie that Casey’s probably right. He says, “Leo, you can yell at them later. Go help Casey get cleaned up and see if he needs stitches.”

“I don’t need stitches,” Casey mutters.

“We’ll be the judge of that,” Leo says, pulling Casey in the direction of the bathroom. He goes reluctantly, glancing over his shoulder, but Donnie dismisses it, preoccupied with looking after his brother.

Raph doesn’t want to put any weight on his left leg, and Donnie has to help boost him up onto the exam table. “Not that bad,” Donnie scoffs. “What did you do, let them use you as a punching bag?”

“ _Let_ them,” Raph says. “Like I’d ever _let_ —”

“Please.” Donnie starts cleaning up Raph’s scrapes and cuts. “You look like someone made you into a pincushion.”

“Not my fault they had knives,” Raph grumbles.

Donnie rolls his eyes, deciding to let Leo deliver the lecture about picking your battles. “Did you break anything?”

“Don’t think so,” Raph says and hisses as Donnie applies antiseptic. “Damn it, Donnie—”

“Don’t be a baby,” Donnie returns. “You got yourself hurt, now you have to deal with it.” He’s being fairly gentle, all things considered, but the stuff is going to burn no matter what.

Raph subsides, glowering. Some of the cuts are superficial; others are deep enough to require a few stitches, which Donnie completes as efficiently and painlessly as he can, keeping up a running commentary as he goes to distract Raph. Halfway through, Casey returns and fidgets around in the doorway. Donnie spares him a look, but Casey looks adequately patched up—they can all manage basic stitches, it’s a necessity given what they do.

The worst of it is a long gash on Raph’s thigh, which missed the artery but not by much. “What even happened here?” Donnie grumbles to himself as he finishes the last stitch.

“I already told you, the dude stabbed me,” Raph says, sounding bored.

“What’s this? What, did he bite you, too?” Donnie leans over to peer at a bruise on Raph’s leg.

Raph freezes suddenly; Donnie can see the muscle tense. “Uh— no. No. That’s, uh, that’s nothing to worry about.”

“You sure? Because it sure looks like a bite mark.” Donnie frowns at it, but it’s not a fresh mark, and the skin isn’t broken.

Raph sits up, wobbling. “It’s none of your business, Donnie,” he says, but without the usual fire behind it.

Donnie backs up and stares at his brother, whose eyes are wide and oddly shifty. It feels like a gear in his brain might be sticking, as Donnie puts the pieces together: a bite-shaped bruise, in that location, and all the inconsequential details he’d dismissed in the last few weeks fall into place. “Oh,” he says. “Oh. I don’t want to know.”

“Great,” says Raph, looking relieved.

Donnie’s brain is still working through the implications, and he blurts out before he can stop himself, “But I don’t know if we can get, um, that kind of human diseases, so safety—”

“Oh no. No, we’re not talking about this.” Raph shoves himself off the exam table in a hurry and lands on his bad leg with a yelp, forcing Donnie to jump over the table to catch his arm and keep him from falling. “I’m fine,” Raph says, panting, “I’m fine, I’ll just walk it off—”

“Don’t be an idiot,” says Donnie, maneuvering his arm around Raph’s shoulders. “Take it easy, you lost a lot of blood.” He looks up and sees that Casey has started into the room and now stands frozen mid-stride, staring at them.

Donnie stares back, taking in the stricken, anxious expression on Casey’s face, and then slowly turns to look at Raph. Who’s staring back at Casey with a look that’s part guilt and part—something else. Donnie looks back and forth between the two of them for another long moment, wheels turning, and then says, “You two.”

Some kind of wordless communication passes between the two of them before Casey nods. “Yeah.”

That’s when all the pieces fall into place. “That makes _so much sense_ ,” Donnie says to the ceiling, and decides if that’s the way things are, he’ll let Casey be the one to haul his groggy, stubborn ass of a brother to his room.


	9. How everyone found out: Splinter

_Three months after_

There is little visible change in their demeanor, but Splinter recognizes that something has changed.

He senses it early on. Even though the boys—or no, they are young men now, he reminds himself—stand shoulder to shoulder, as usual, or with Casey Jones resting an elbow on Raphael’s shoulder, something none of his brothers could get away with for long, the energy between them is palpably different. More relaxed, more… charged, but not with tension, rather with a kind of vitality, an abiding connection.

It is a feeling that Splinter remembers from long ago. When he was still Hamato Yoshi, beyond the flush of pride that Tang Shen had chosen him, there was the joy and comfort of partnership, of having found one who was like his other half. They built each other up, strengthening the other’s weaknesses, forming a new whole.

That all his sons might find such joy is a hope so deep and secret that Splinter has never spoken of it. It seemed so unlikely for so many years that such a thing could ever happen; and yet, if they have friendship, why not that, too? 

That it should first be Raphael is not, perhaps, what one might have expected, and yet seems fitting. For so long it was just the five of them, out of necessity. Their family was a closed unit, and Raphael has struggled with that all his life. He never forgets a slight or an grudge, and every argument with his brothers carries the ghosts of a thousand previous ones, back to the earliest days he can remember. He has always needed outlets, both physical and emotional, and while their training provides the former, the tight circle of the family does not always allow the latter.

It used to worry Splinter, how harsh, even cruel, Raphael could be to all his brothers. Michelangelo is a resilient soul, and forgives as easily as breathing, but Leonardo is too competitive himself to let Raphael’s challenges slide, and Donatello takes things to heart more than he shows—a trait in which he is similar to Raphael, ironically enough. Splinter intervened in arguments when his sons were small, but as they grew older, he knew they must learn to manage among themselves. Even the best-intentioned parental intervention could have disastrous consequences. Had he not seen as much in his own youth, now that he looked back from the distance of years? He watched his sons interact and saw, in Raphael, something of himself—and something, too, of his once-friend Saki. He has held his breath, at times, watching his boys go after each other, and has, by and large, chosen to allow them to find their own way.

To his relief, he has not had cause to regret that choice. The boys have settled, over the years, have found their places with each other. Opening their lives to the outside world, gaining friends who have not known them all their lives, seems to help. And Raphael has worked to master his anger and his pride, and has progressed, especially of late. And Casey, too, has grown into a fine young man, loyal and trustworthy; he is well aware of the risks inherent in the ninja’s way of life already, and seems able to temper Raphael’s impetuousness, in spite of his own.

So, on the whole, Splinter approves.

Which does not mean he needs to witness matters that should remain private.

He clears his throat.

The pair on the couch freeze, two heads lifting to look at him with wide, wary eyes.

“Perhaps your bedroom would be a more appropriate location for such intimate activities,” Splinter suggests.

Raphael’s face changes color. “Uh… right… of course, sensei.”

Splinter turns away as the two of them scramble to get off the couch and put themselves to rights, but he cannot resist adding, “You two are usually much more discreet.”

There is another moment of stunned silence behind him as he proceeds to his own quarters, followed by a burst of laughter from Casey, and Splinter smiles to himself.


	10. How everyone found out: Leo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the awkward conclusion to this series.

_Two years after_

“Shut it, Raph,” Casey says with a sigh.

“Yeah? Make me,” Raph retorts, and keeps going. “So puckhead here thinks it would be a good idea to try to tackle the biggest goon, all right?”

Donnie snorts and Mikey giggles. Casey and Raph both look fine, excluding some minor bruises, or Leo would be a whole lot more annoyed at the recap of some recent ill-advised adventure. As it is, they’ve all had a couple of beers, and it has the makings of a good story.

“And then he totally fails at knocking the guy over, so he’s just sort of grabbing onto his back and flailing around—” Raph demonstrates, arms waving, his eyes bugging out in what is apparently supposed to be an imitation of Casey.

Casey heaves another, even more exaggerated sigh, leans across the table, takes Raph’s face in both hands, and smashes their mouths together.

Leo blames the beer at first. Mikey and Donnie burst out laughing. April rolls her eyes and smirks at them. Even Splinter, passing through the kitchen on his way to the refrigerator, merely chuckles.

But the kiss… keeps happening, and Leo’s _waiting_ for Raph to shove Casey away or punch him or do something else appropriately Raph-like, but it never happens. He’s just sitting there. No, wait, he’s _not_ just sitting there; he’s actually showing signs of _getting into it_ , leaning into Casey in a way that makes Leo feel like he should be averting his eyes.

April sighs and says, “Get a room, guys,” before taking another sip.

“Very funny,” Leo says. “You guys can cut it out now.”

There’s a moment of silence and then Donnie coughs. “Um, Leo—”

Casey and Raph finally break apart and Raph flashes him a giant grin. “What’s the matter, Leo, can’t handle a little PDA?”

“No, I just mean you made your point, and—” He stops, registering that Casey still has an arm draped over Raph’s shoulders, and both of them are still relaxed and smiling, and Casey actually looks a little flushed. “Wait a minute. Wait a _minute_. Are you trying to tell me you guys are— together?”

“Dude,” says Mikey. “I thought you knew.”

“But—” A horrible highlight reel of past conversations begins rolling through Leo’s head. A hundred references suddenly fall into place, and a lot of things make so much more sense.

Raph’s grin is slowly growing even wider, and Leo knows, just _knows_ , with a deep sinking sensation, that he’s not going to live this one down for _years_. Maybe never. Why the hell did Raph never just say something? Wait, why is he asking the question? Why does Raph do anything?

Raph says, not bothering to restrain his glee, “What, you never even suspected? I didn’t think we were that stealthy, Leo. You’d think a ninja would notice.”

“ _I_ noticed,” Mikey says. “Sometimes you guys get a little noisy.”

Mikey and Raph’s rooms share a wall. Leo’s doesn’t, but even so, how had he never managed to notice? “Noisy—” he starts, and then stops himself, trying to ignore the sense of betrayal buried somewhere under the sheer embarrassment. “How long? I mean, _how long have you been together_ ,” because there are things he does not want to know, any more than he wants to know about the _noisiness_.

The two of them look at each other, still smirking, and shrug. “I dunno,” says Casey. “Couple of years, I guess?”

Oh no. All those times he’d thought Casey was sleeping on the couch? Oh _no_.

“A couple of _years_?” Leo looks frantically around the table. Nobody else appears in the least surprised. His sense of betrayal grows. “You all knew, and nobody said anything?”

“I assumed you’d figured it out,” Donnie says, looking vaguely apologetic.

April shrugs, though she musters up a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, Leo, it didn’t seem like my business to say anything.”

“Dude, even Shepard knows,” Raph says, still grinning.

“But—” Leo seems to be reduced to sputtering. But he’s the leader, he’s supposed to be in charge, he’s supposed to know what’s going on with his team. Shepard’s not even here, off somewhere in basic training. Raph and Casey are still grinning at him. Leo casts about desperately for support. “Sensei?”

“I did not consider it relevant, Leonardo.”

Leo groans and sinks back in his chair as much as he can. Raph and Casey cannot restrain their laughter any longer, and everyone else is smirking, too. And then they kiss _again_ and Leo throws a balled-up napkin that bounces off Raph’s forehead, and it’s only the smallest consolation at being so thoroughly out of the loop.


	11. Skating along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt from theherocomplex, "teaching the other something new."

“Yeah, so why am I here again?” Arms crossed, Raph scowls as he looks around the empty rink. 

Casey grins back. If he was gonna let a couple of scowls slow him down, he woulda dumped Raph ages ago. It’s not even an angry scowl; Casey can tell the difference by now. More of a wary scowl. Raph isn’t always big on surprises, unless it’s a surprise that lets him punch something. 

“I’m gonna teach you to skate,” Casey announces. 

Raph scoffs. “The hell, Case. I don’t need to skate.” 

“Who said anything about need?” Casey dumps his duffel bag on the floor. Like it or not, his heart’s pounding. He spent a lot of time on this surprise, and if Raph really doesn’t like it, it’s going to be a real bummer. 

“I’m fine on the ice,” Raph insists. “Besides—” 

“You can’t get skates to fit you?” Casey grabs his quarry out of the bag and holds them up by the straps, holding his breath and putting on a grin at the same time. 

His reward is to watch the scowl melt off Raph’s face. Raph’s eyes go wide and round behind his mask, and his jaw actually hangs slack. Casey would give himself a high-five if he weren’t still holding the homemade skates in his hand. 

“You made me skates?” 

Casey shrugs. “No big deal, really.” He’d just started with a metal base, which wasn’t _that_ hard to shape to the appropriate size – okay, he owed Donnie a bit for helping with the metalworking – and then added straps and blades. Yeah, it had been a bit of work, but it was totally worth it. 

“Um, wow,” Raph says, in an unusually small voice. “Thanks.” 

“So what are you waiting for? Try ‘em on.” 

They do fit. And it doesn’t take Raph long to go from wobbling around, teeth bared in fierce concentration, to moving with a decent amount of grace and speed. 

Casey honestly can’t say he’s surprised. All four of the brothers have amazing reflexes and pick up stuff like nobody’s business. He’d been _hoping_ for a little more coaching, though, for an excuse to hold onto each other. 

But chasing each other around the ice works, too. Especially when Casey slows down (on purpose, obviously he’s still faster on skates) so Raph can catch up to him and grab him around the middle, and they both go down laughing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from theherocomplex - Concillabule: a secret meeting of people who are hatching a plot

“He’s gone too far this time,” Raph says.

Casey smirks, even though Raph is still shaking with rage about Mikey’s latest prank, which involved pink soap and a bucket full of rubber cockroaches strategically suspended over the shower. 

“I mean it,” Raph growls. “This Dr. Prankinstein crap isn’t funny any more.”

“You think it’s funny when he pranks Leo,” Casey points out. He’s not even sure why. Some perverse sense of obligation.

“Yeah, well, that’s Leo, and Mikey goes after me way more often.”

“That’s because you retaliate right away,” Casey says, leaning forward to wipe the last splash of pink suds off of Raph’s shell.

“Well, _duh_ , what am I supposed to do, lie around and let him get away with it?”

"Nooo,” says Casey. “Just… take your time about it, dude. Let him wonder when you’re gonna get him back. Let the fear sink in, like.”

Raph’s green eyes light up with a kind of unholy glee that Casey would find scary himself if it weren’t kinda hot. “You wanna help me make a plan?”

Casey grins. “You bet, babe.”

Raph growls and takes a swipe at him. “Shut up.”

“Gonna be hard to make a plan if I’m not talking,” Casey points out, and Raph growls again while Casey’s still laughing.


	13. Quidnunc (Leo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quidnunc: One who always has to know what is going on.
> 
> Also, a follow-up to the earlier chapters in which the family gradually finds out about the relationship.

Leo still can’t believe he somehow missed the fact that Raph and Casey were… an item.

He especially can’t believe that he missed that fact for _two years_.

He’s… look, he’s made his share of mistakes, but he prides himself on knowing what’s going on with his team. It’s not just for kicks or out of some fraternal nosiness. Too often, their lives depend on knowing exactly what he can expect out of each of them. If someone’s reflexes are a shade slow, if someone’s off their game, it could mean the difference between success and failure. Having that sense of the others, knowing how and when to use their skills—that’s what being the leader is about.

Leo’s already devised his revenge. Training, at least the part he’s responsible for, starts nice and early for the next two weeks. Nice, long runs and especially complicated obstacle courses. Donnie and Mikey are totally onto Leo’s plan, to judge from the glares they shoot his direction (between bouts of whining, on Mikey’s part, at least). Raph, being Raph, acts like he doesn’t notice, and uses all his spare breath to keep rubbing it in.

“So, Leo, just in case you didn’t _notice_ —”

Leo puts on a burst of speed just so he can avoid hearing the end of Raph’s sentence.

The rest of the time, he finds himself stalking around the lair, checking the quantity of drinks in the fridge, noticing how often his brothers are hanging around watching vids. He wakes up in the middle of the night and pads silently around the lair, checking to make sure Donnie went to bed and Raph is back home. It’s paranoid, and ugly, but he can’t help but wonder what else he’s been missing.

That only lasts about a week before Mikey corners Leo in the kitchen and says, “Dude. You gotta chill.”

“I’m fine,” Leo says, even though his shoulders are stiffening. “Everything’s fine.”

“I promise you, bro, there is nothing weird going on. Except you. You’re being weird.”

“I’m not weird,” Leo protests.

Mikey’s face scrunches up and he gives Leo a look that’s one part skeptical and two parts hurt feelings. He doesn’t even need to say anything. Leo heaves a sigh. “I just don’t know how I missed what was going on with Raph for two whole years.”

Mikey shakes his head. “Dude, you’re the lucky one. You want me to wake you up the next time they’re—”

“No thank you,” Leo says hastily.

“I’m sorry you were kinda left out,” Mikey says. “But, like… you know how Raph is about squishy feelings stuff. He never really said anything about it to anybody.”

“But the rest of you figured it out on your own, so what does that say about me?” Leo grumbles, leaning back against the counter.

“Uh, well, I walked in on them, and I think Casey was the one who told April, and, like, Sensei knows _everything_ , so—”

“All right, I get the idea,” Leo says, starting to feel sheepish.

“It’s cool you keep track of things, bro, but you gotta relax sometimes,” Mikey says. “Like now! I need a video game partner!”

He’s grinning and hopeful, blue eyes all wide and earnest, and Leo gives in. “Fine. I’ll… try to relax.”

“I know you can do it if you try,” Mikey says.


	14. Hey! I was going to eat that!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Casey is very serious about turkey sandwiches, and Raph lies.

“Hey! I was gonna eat that!” Casey stared, torn between indignation and horror, at Raph chowing down on the turkey leftovers he’d been saving.

Raph, that jerk, took another bite of his sandwich. “How was I supposed to know that?”

“Well, I was keeping it in _my_ fridge, and not down in the lair.”

“I come in here all the time,” Raph pointed out and took another unrepentant bite. Casey moaned and grabbed for the remains of the sandwich.

“What the hell, Case?”

Casey settled for shoving Raph in the shoulder, which did about as much good as it ever did, dude was built like a wall. “That’s, like, the leftovers from my gramma’s turkey dinner, Raph, c’mon, gimme!”

“If you keep grabbing for it I’m gonna drop it and then no one gets to eat it,” Raph said, dodging backward.

Casey might just eat Gramma Jones’ turkey off the floor, if it came to that.

“C’mon, dude, Gramma’s old, she’s not gonna host Thanksgiving forever! That might be the last of her turkey _ever_!”

“Are you seriously trying to guilt-trip me? Your gramma’s fine! And there’s more turkey in the fridge!”

Casey blinked. “Oh.”

“Dumbass,” Raph grumbled between bites.

Casey opened the fridge and peered inside, trying to find the container, and then slammed the door shut. “You LIAR!”

Raph swallowed down the last bite and grinned. “Oh well.”


End file.
